Harold Beaumont's Bruises

Consent

Harold's POV

I heard Noely before I saw her. For someone so small and boney, she kicked the gym doors open with a crashing boom that shook the building. High heels and all.

"Mr. Bernard!" Noely is basically frothing at the mouth. Her every step is a thunderous stomp that echoes the more she gets closer. Her anger silences the entire gym, her fury is taking up the space in the room, making the air too heavy to breathe.

I watch on as she advances on Mr. Bernard, who is leaning more on his cane since Noely's started her scene.

Exchanging a knowing look, Toby and I rush over to Noely just before she loses it on Mr. Bernard, grabbing a hold of her as if we're holding her back from starting a fist fight.

"I told you—" Noely starts off hysterically.

"Noely!" Toby and I both try to calm her down, like pet owners trying to get their dogs to stop barking. I can feel every pair of eyes in the gym watching us— judging us. But I can especially feel Joey's eyes on me, like a hand caressing the back of my neck. Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I catch Joey clutching her camera with a deadly grip. The lines around her eyes tight with concern, while her stance is rigid like she's ready to bolt at any moment.

"Do I need to have her removed off the property?" Mr. Bernard challenges in a too calm voice.

"Try it! I'll sue anyone who lays a hand on me!" Noely tries to fight off Toby's and I's grips, while glaring down Mr. Bernard with a look that could kill.

"Noely!" I roar into her ear, resisting the urge to drag her out of here kicking and screaming. Noely goes stills in my arms, but shoots me a dirty look. A guilty lump forms in the pit of my stomach, while a heavy feeling of shame weighs down on me like a fist bearing down my the back of my head. I snap, but never with Noley. She's the person whose been with me since the beginning, every up and down and down and down.... I wouldn't be here without her.

Releasing the brunette, I debate grabbing my stuff and exiting the gym altogether, but I can't leave Noely wild and unsupervised. God knows what she'll do. Straightening up, Noely presses out the wrinkles from her designer clothes, while fixing Mr. Bernard with a nasty look.

"Let's talk business." She huffs.

——————

"Take. The. Picture. Down." Noely growls. Now seated in Mr. Bernard's office, she glares across Mr. Bernard's desk at the old man on the other side in the big leather chair. Unable to say no to Noely's demand, Joey nervously hovers behind Mr. Bernard.

"I hope you're aware this meeting is entirely to humor you." Mr. Bernard comments, rolling his tired eyes.

"That photo is sabotaging my client's image that he and I have tirelessly worked for— we had publicans buying his bad boy boxer reputation." Over my dead body would I pose for a magazine or whatever. They'll make me do something stupid, like wearing a leather jacket without a shirt underneath.

"Did you even have my client's consent to post this?" Noely challenges Joey with a tight frown. Joey opens her mouth, but shuts it, then opens once more only to clamp it shut again. Joey's hazel eyes slide over to mine, the panic look in her eyes obvious. As if an invisible fist jabbed me with brutal force right in the chest, my heart stops beating for the briefest of moments.

"She does have my consent." My heart starts beating again.

Stunned, the entire room stones over. Gaping up at me, Noley sits unmovingly in her seat. Mr. Bernard's cane nearly slips through his fingers, almost clatters to the floor. But Joey struggles to fight off a growing smile that sends my heart into an irregular excited rhythm.

"I approved the photos myself." I state lowly. Noely's expression screams "without consulting me?!"

"I'm sorry for wasting your time." Noely rises up, and exits the office without so much as a goodbye. Joey beats me to Noely before I do. Or maybe I purposely fell into step behind her so I wouldn't have to meet her eyes. Despite being indoors, Noely lights one of her "emergency" cigarettes that she claims to only smoke when she's stressed. So in actuality, every damn day.

"Noely," Joey starts, glancing at the No Smoking sign over our heads in the hall. "I realize now that I should have ran the picture past you—" Joey forces this part out. "as Harold's publicist." Joey is trying to mean every word. I wonder if this is how she handles her many foster siblings when one of them throws a fit. Noely holds back until she's inhaling a big drag of her cigarette.

"Mr. Bernard has asked me to help better Harold's image—" Joey nearly falls over her feet as she reels back when Noely sharply turns on her. Noely's high heels stomp down menacingly as she bares down on Joey. I struggle to keep my hands at my sides instead of grabbing Joey to shield her from Noely.

"That image you're trying to fix is what fills up the seats with fans. That image is how Harold gets sponsorships, which pays for everything. Harry's training, his special diet, his equipment, his apartment!" I love how she doesn't mention her designer handbags too.

"He's my boss." Joey quickly adds in. "But from now on, I will run all Harold photos past you." Joey pacifies, trying to keep a straight face. Noely takes a deep inhale of her cigarette like she desperately needs it.

"Damn right you will." Noely hisses instead of saying thank you. "And you will not humiliate me like that again. You don't make career calls, Harry. I do." Noely points a manicured nail at me, then walks off. Noley pauses mid strut, and glances back to us.

"You know, Joey... I actually did like the picture." Noely quietly admits before taking off, leaving me alone with Joey. When I look back at Joey, I almost forget for a second that we're not speaking... that I pushed her away after that kiss. That have I to keep her away. Not knowing what to say to each other, we unbearably sufferer through the heavy silence between us. I should storm off like I normally do, but I didn't realize how much I miss Joey till this one instant. Even if this moment is awkward, even if we haven't spoken a word to each other all day, this is the most I've been with Joey in a long time, and I'll take it.

"Thank you," Much to my dismay, Joey takes some big steps away from me. Thanks for what?

"Thank you for covering for me the picture." Oh, my lie about the consent. I want to tell her I would have approved the picture anyway, even though I hate my picture being taken. I want to tell her how much I secretly like the photograph. I want to tell her a lot of things, but I just let her walk away.